


Nexus

by MalikaiFlame



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Abduction, Biphobia, Canon-Typical Violence, Electricity, Established Relationship, Kidnapped Spencer Reid, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Protectiveness, Psychological Torture, Restraints, Self-Sacrifice, Serial Killers, Torture, mutual torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-08 09:42:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21473941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalikaiFlame/pseuds/MalikaiFlame
Summary: The team is called to investigate a series of murders involving the prolonged torturing of couples, but when the unsub sets his sights on Reid and Morgan, the two are pushed to their limits and forced to confess things they may rather have kept hidden.
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 32
Kudos: 307





	1. Point 1

The members of the Behavioral Analysis Unit all should have been well-adjusted to spontaneous, early-morning flights by now. It felt like every case started with a blinding light, Hotch’s voice, haphazardly packed suitcases, and half-awake taxi drives to the Bureau. They would all probably bet that they spent more time sleeping in the seats of their plane than in their own beds. But, as such was the nature of the profession they chose.

This specific morning, the quiet humming of the plane kept them in a drowsy haze and JJ passed out copies of the case file to each member of the team, giving them the materials for when Garcia prepped them for the situation they would be greeted with when they landed. It didn’t help that it was still dark out, either. Darkness meant sleeping hours. 4:43 AM, to be exact, should be sleeping hours.

Morgan sat down next to Reid, who looked up and gave him a quick smile before returning back to the case file he was holding. The two of them had driven to work together, after receiving a single phone call from their boss. By now, the two of them had been living together and Hotch knew that if he needed to get a hold of both of them, he could save time by just calling one. They would both get the message. 

On paper, they both still had separate residences. Even though Morgan had made clear time and time again that Reid was more than welcome to move into the renovated home that Morgan kept, Reid had never completely made that jump. Morgan didn’t take it personally. That’s just how Reid was. It didn’t make Morgan question their relationship at all. Reid just liked to have back up plans to his back up plans, and he liked knowing he had a space of his own, and if that made him feel more comfortable, Morgan was fine with it, especially because those times they were living apart were becoming less and less.

The screen clicked on, drawing all of their attentions.

“Hello, and a bright, happy, early morning to my babies.” Garcia started. 

“The only bright part about this morning is your face, baby girl.” Morgan mumbled, a smile sparkling behind his eyes.

Garcia smiled. “Lets just jump right into it. Three couples have been killed in the last few months.” She pulled up six smiling faces. “First were Michael Rayas and Richard Menick.”

“Rayas, 32, and Menick, 33, lived in an apartment together where Rayas worked nights as a CNA and Menick was a high school science teacher. Police were notified when Menick didn’t arrive at work without requesting a substitute. Rayas disappeared in the middle of a shift the next day. Surveillance footage shows him leaving the hospital floor around 4 AM and no one had seen him since until he and his boyfriend’s bodies were discovered three days later.”

Two pictures were enlarged in-sync, along with brutal images of post-torture.

“Electricity. Strapped down to chairs. But especially the collars... ” Rossi mulled out-loud. “It’s all extremely intimate. He’s saying ‘I own you.’”

“And if you look at their positions,” Morgan piggy-backed, “He wanted them to be looking at each other. Wanted them to watch the other’s torture.”

“It must be something about these people’s relationships that triggers him.” Blake added. “But our unsub also isn’t motivated to commit hate crimes. Although his first recorded murders were two men in a relationship, he has attacked straight couples as well.”

“That may not be technically true.” Spencer interjected. “It’s impossible to say without speaking to those who knew the victims, but the other couples may have been in a straight-passing relationship where one or more of those involved identified as bisexual.”

“Could it be an evolution of some kind?” Morgan offered. “Maybe the idea of trying to uncover who is or is not in a straight relationship is exciting to him.” 

“Perhaps…” Rossi agreed. “Garcia, how long have the three couples been together?”

“I see where your head is, sir, but I don’t think that’s what connects them.” The familiar sound of Garcia’s typing filled the air. “Richard and Michael had been dating for a year and a half, Sharon and Julian for about eight months, and the Jeffers were actually married. They had a three-year-old daughter.”

“Well, if it isn’t the amount of time they were together, could the dates they were killed be significant?” JJ asked. “I know these couples were killed during completely different points in the year, but could those dates be important to the unsub because they are important to the couples?”

“Looked into that too.” Garcia pounced, rapidly pulling up official documents onto the screen. “If it is the dates, it isn’t anniversaries or births. The Jeffers were just killed now, in January, but their wedding anniversary is in October and their daughter’s birthday is in July.”

“Jobs?” JJ tried again.

“Teacher, nurse, city attorney, another teacher, a semi-truck driver, and a software developer. Jobs all over the place.” Garcia listed.

“City attorney? Could this be politically motivated? Technically teachers are employees of the government as well.” Blake offered.

“Most likely not.” Hotch continued scrolling from the documents. “It would be a good theory, but neither Sharon nor Julian had government jobs, so they wouldn’t have been targeted in the first place if that was the motivator.” 

“You’re right.” Morgan said. “Whatever is linking these couples in the unsub’s mind doesn’t appear to have anything to do with their occupations.”

“How did we find out these cases are connected?” Reid asked, squinting to examine the crime scene photos more closely.

“Marium Jeffers somehow managed to escape. She’s the reason we have the clues we have. She led local law enforcement directly to where he was keeping she and her husband.” Garcia chimed in. “Unfortunately, she died before she reached the hospital.”

“Our unsub has got to be unhappy about that.” Rossi said. “He lost his homebase. So if he plans to keep killing, he’s going to have to do it at a new location.”

“And we don’t have enough yet to know how this will affect his future behavior, or how significant this torturing location was.” Hotch added. “So, we need to be ready to go the second we land. If we want to catch him sooner rather than later, we need to try to find him before his M.O. and patterns change to adjust to a new location.”

“And it’s a wild card for whoever he goes for next.” JJ continued solemnly. 

“So what do you think it is?”

“Whatever it is, once we find out what it is, we’ll know how to find our unsub.”

They all nodded, continuing to listen as Garcia filled them in. Once Garcia logged off, the conversation slowly trickled down and each of them turned to their own distractions. Blake and Rossi started looking over the case file together more while Hotch pulled JJ aside to discuss something, but Morgan could tell by their body language that it was something happy. Probably Henry or Jack. He leaned over towards his partner.

“So, how’d you sleep, pretty boy?”

Reid gave him a side-eye. “Not terrible, but not great. Your snoring was louder than usual last night.”

“I do not snore! I have never had anyone ever tell that I snore!” Morgan exclaimed. “I swear you’re making this up to get under my skin.”

Reid wasn’t phased at the accusation. “You fell asleep on your back, which I don’t understand how one can do in the first place, by the way. Being more intentional about sleeping on your side would probably help minimize the amount of snoring. Plus, sleeping on your side allows your spine to rest in its natural alignment. Or you may just have a deviated septum.” He cracked a smile. “To be honest, I don’t know how you can sleep through it sometimes.”

“Woah.” Morgan said, faking offense. “Have you seen my face, Reid? It is perfectly symmetrical. And I didn’t come here for you to have a go at me. I just wanted some nice, pleasant, non-accusatory small talk.”

Reid raised his hands in false surrender. 

“You accidentally left this in the rush this morning and I thought you might want it.” Morgan fished into his pocket and pulled out the Grand Canyon miniature Spencer had gotten from his mom. Since he had gotten it, Spencer had carried it with him wherever they went. 

Reid took the memento from him, his hand lingering briefly in Morgan’s. 

“Thanks.” he whispered.

“Sure thing, kid.” Morgan ruffled his hair as he sat up. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll stay awake so my ‘horribly inconvenient’ snoring doesn’t disturb you this time.”

Spencer nodded, pulling the miniature close to his chest. After a few minutes, Morgan watched as he brought his knees up, curling into a tight ball in the small plane seat, somehow managing to fit his entire body in it despite all practical odds. His head leaned against the wall as he stared out the window, his eyes slowly drooping closed. 

Morgan may not have known Spencer his whole life. On Spencer’s first day, Morgan couldn’t believe the kid genius everyone was buzzing about, but once Morgan saw him… He had resisted it at first, ignoring the obvious signs. His childhood life hadn’t exactly raised him to be fully ready to accept an “alternative lifestyle.” With his friends, his community, his traumas… It had been a lot for him to overcome within himself. It had been easy when he thought he was straight, because he definitely did like women, but the process of coming to terms with his bisexuality was a different story. But Morgan sure as hell couldn’t imagine his life without Spencer now. 

Spencer had freed him in many ways, and Morgan wanted to spend the rest of his life loving him for it.


	2. Point 2

The first stop once the team landed was Sarah Lane, the sister of Julian, who was killed with his girlfriend Shannon, making them Murders 3 and 4. This was always the worst part of the job. The task assigned to the person, or people, who drew the shortest stick. But JJ was typically one of the people chosen. Morgan had jumped on the task of reexamining the crime scene, Reid going with him. That left Hotch and Blake, since Rossi left for the police station to get caught up on any developments.

“Julian was so scared when Shannon disappeared.” his sister choked. “He refused to sleep, and he couldn’t eat anything. The police told us that there may be a ransom call, but we never got one. And then…” 

Hotch and Blake exchanged sympathetic looks as JJ moved closer to her.

“I’m sorry.” Sarah sniffed. 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” JJ comforted, rubbing her hand across her back. “Take your time.”

Sarah took a deep breath before continuing. “And then he was just gone. I… I went to bed and he was in the living room watching tv. I knew it wouldn’t do anything to try to get him to sleep, so I just left him alone. I thought he might fall asleep on the couch.”

“I know this is hard, Sarah, and the information you’re giving us is going to help us,” Blake stepped in. “But did you ever hear anything from Julian after he disappeared? Or was there any contact from whoever did this?”

Sarah’s eyes welled with new tears and her lower lip began to tremble. For a few moments, she was able to hold herself together, but then she broke down.

“I found out what had happened on the news.” she sobbed. “The news!”

Blake, Hotch, and JJ gave her a moment to calm back down, her sobbing reignited by reliving the painful moment. They were all too familiar, but it still hurt to see. Every time.

“This may seem like an odd question, ma’am, but we promise it is relevant,” Hotch started, “But was Julian bisexual?”

Sarah blinked at him in surprise. “I don’t… What would that have to do with anything?”

JJ took over. “We’re just trying to cover all possibilities.”

“No. No, Julian was straight.” Sarah stated, positive of her answer.

“Could there be a possibility that he could’ve been keeping that part of his life private?” Blake pressed.

Sarah looked agitated. “Are you trying to say that he wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me? We live together, for god’s sake! How would he sneak a guy in here without me knowing? I definitely knew about all the girls he brought here!” 

Something passed behind her eyes. “Before Shannon.” she added. Her demeanor caught Hotch’s attention, his mind already making inferences, but he decided to address it later. It was best to keep her open and talking.

She then huffed as she stood up. “My brother and I are best friends… were…” she breathed through the rising tears. “I know he was straight.”

JJ nodded along sympathetically. Blake’s eyes wandered around the apartment, amazed at how utterly undisturbed the scene was, but then something caught her eye.

“Is that a landline?” Blake asked.

“Yeah.” Sarah answered after following Blake’s gaze. “Yeah. We don’t really use it though. It’s a part of the apartment complex and the only person who ever calls us on it is the landlord. ”

Hotch whipped out his phone and hit the speed dial.

One ring.

“Oh captain, my captain?” came Garcia’s chipper voice.

“Garcia, there’s a landline here.” Hotch said, getting right to the point. “Perhaps there aren’t records of any odd calls on Julian’s cell phone because a call came from the landline. Can you find those records?”

“Can I find those records, sir?” Hotch could hear her keyboard clicking in the background. “I am on it like sticky glue. Give me something challenging next time. Garcia, out!”

\----

Morgan took a moment to look over the crime scene. Thanks to Marium Jeffers, the local police had been able to find the location and begin the preliminary search. Her husband’s body had been removed and important spots in the underground bunker had been taped off. Blood spots marked, evidence collected, but nothing could ever remove the stain of what had been done there, and he felt it sending a chill up his spine.

He had been doing this job for a long time, but every single time he immersed himself in the space where people had lost their lives, it still got to him. And although he hated the feeling, the unease that threatened to become a greater sadness, he was thankful for it. Because this job made one calloused, and Morgan would say that he was. There’s no way you could survive this job if you didn’t get some thick skin and fast, but it was comforting to know that you were still human enough for it to hurt.

Morgan looked over at his partner. He and Reid had been sent to the crime scene, Hotch delegating members of the team to various locations after landing. It was the most efficient way to get all the available information the quickest. They had already been filled in by local law enforcement, who seemed to be rather eager for their help. There were just some cases that went above some people’s pay-grade and experience, and this was one of them.

There was always a sense of pride when he watched Reid work. He was light-years ahead of any of them, Morgan included. The kid was a genius. He was meticulous and thoughtful. The kind of person who had every right to be conceited, but he never was. He was a genius with a pure heart who used his gifts selflessly, even though Morgan knew it took a lot out of him. It took a lot out of all of them. And even though they had been dating for a few years, it still seemed unbelievable to him that someone like Spencer would ever end up with a guy like him. Or for someone like him to fall in love with a guy like Spencer. If little Derek Morgan had been told that he would end up falling head over heels for a scrawny, nose-in-a-book, boy-band looking federal agent… well… he would have laughed his ass off.

But Derek was never one to be loud and proud about their relationship. He wasn’t the type to parade in the street, sporting rainbows. Not that he had any problem with those who did that. In fact, a large part of him envied that freedom and that demand of recognition. However, in his line of work, it was always a good idea to keep as much of one’s private life as quiet as possible. Whenever they were on the job, Morgan always referred to Spencer as "Reid," to keep things professional, even if they were around safe company. No "Spencer," no "kid," no "pretty boy." Nothing that could hint at a more intimate relationship. Their job was one that created a lot of enemies. And a lot of enemies who knew how to hurt people.

He could feel his protective streak flare at the thought. 

Spencer knew this was how Derek felt, and he respected that. It’s not like Spencer was particularly indulgent when it came to physical affection, anyways. Spencer’s prefered method of intimacy was time. Late nights at each other’s apartments. Or proximity. There were many times where Spencer would read silently next to Derek as he yelled obscenities at his gaming console. 

That’s not to say that they weren’t physically intimate. But similar to how Derek didn’t understand why “tetraphosphorus and its six single P-P bonds” was a good reason to get all worked up, he still loved to sit back and listen to Spencer talk for hours. He may not understand why the topic was so compelling, but it didn’t matter. He loved watching his partner light up as he dove deeper and deeper into the intricacies of whatever it was he was invested in in the moment. It wasn’t important that he got it. What was important was that it made Spencer happy, and that’s what he found fulfilling.

The same way Spencer smiled when Derek played “Poison” for the seventh time on the car ride home, singing along too even though he hated it.

The same way Derek let Spencer keep the light on so he could keep reading at night, even though it was 2 AM, and he couldn’t sleep without complete darkness.

The same way Spencer still let Derek eat spicy food, even though he constantly got hiccups afterwards.

The same way they had sex.

Because loving another person isn’t about just your happiness, but being happy because of another’s happiness.

“What do you see?” Morgan asked, pulling Reid out of his concentration and making him jump. He offered a small smile before motioning for Morgan to crouch down with him.

“They’re easy to miss, but it looks like the floor is scratched up over here, and there’s disturbances in the accumulation of dust as well…” Spencer started, indicating to faint lines etched into the concrete. 

_He’s right, _ Morgan thought. _ It is barely noticeable. _ He had been working with Reid for years, but he always found some way to blow him away every case. Morgan leaned closer still, squinting as he examined the marks.

“It’s definitely a pattern. Each of the three marks are equally spaced apart, but moving in identical, unique directions. Whatever was making these marks were connected because there’s no way three separate objects made the exact same marks.” Morgan asked. This is how they worked. Brainstorming out-loud always helped them reach a conclusion sooner.

He could see Reid mulling the ideas over, thoughts racing through his mind as he deciphered through them. Morgan gave him his space, and time. He knew he couldn’t begin to understand what was going on in there. “Morgan… I think it’s a tripod. Could it have been something the unsub set up?”

The realization hit them both. That changed the profile completely, and in a dangerous way.

“He’s recording what he’s doing to these people…” Morgan restated, his mind wrapping around the new information. “He likes to relive it over and over again.”

Reid nodded. “We need to call Hotch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm actually watching Criminal Minds right now (I stopped after Season 6 because life and have just now picked it back up again, sparking my inspiration for this fic.) And I just got through 11.18 and I can easily say I was DEVASTATED. I can't believe that was never spoiled for me. 
> 
> Anyways, things are going to start getting interesting in the next chapter! I love your feedback and appreciate your kudos and comments.


	3. Point 3

A damn shame she got away

But I guess that’s okay…

Because she gave me something I wouldn’t have had otherwise  
If they found me on their own

A warning

So, I knew they were coming for me.  
I knew how much time I had

Which meant

This…

This could be fun.

There was time to clean.  
Get rid of all identifiable decor  
Fingerprints, bills, anything with a name

There was time to set up  
Pack the tripod, pack the videos  
But…  
And this was good…  
Put in the mini cameras.

Like I would completely abandon a place so special.  
Plus, I want to see who invades my home.  
Who thinks they have the right…  
What I’m doing is important

There was time to hide.  
Comfortable and at peace when the first invaders entered  
Watching them all,  
A bird’s eye view on their assault  
Their justified violation

But most importantly, I have discovered…  
There was time to study.  
Years of observing, studying, learning prepared me for this  
The nuances of body language  
The silent language of love

The way that agent made as little contact with his partner as possible  
His stiffness.  
Objectivity, but forced.  
An indicator of quite the opposite.  
The way he looks at his partner when his back is turned.  
Reverence almost  
The way he watches everyone else around him…  
Cataloging, looking for any slight.  
The protector

And the other one?  
Keeps to himself a lot.  
Defensive body language.  
Arms crossed around the body.  
Stepping back unconsciously, an indicator of a rather large personal space.  
The way he allows the other agent into it  
Beckoning him closer,  
Arms released, torso exposed.  
Shoulders relaxed.  
Shields down.  
Willingly vulnerable.

Potentially platonic, to the untrained eye  
But mine is anything but that.

I was right...

This was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some unsub's POV! This is a chapter that I wasn't originally planning on writing, but the idea came to me and I thought it would be an interesting addition.
> 
> I decided to post this a bit early because it's a shorter chapter. A shorter waiting period for a shorter piece of work!


	4. Intersection 1

After visiting the crime scene, and the whirlwind of getting settled in a new city, Derek didn’t have time to stop and eat before passing out in his hotel room. That meant, the next morning, he was ravenous. A local diner popped up after a quick search on his phone, and that’s where he decided he was going, bringing Spencer along with him. Travelling around the world tracking down killers really did put a damper on visiting new places, but Derek tried to make up for it in any way he could, which meant he had a fondness for small mom-and-pop spots.

Breakfast had been quick and efficient, yet exceptional, but Derek knew the morning couldn’t last forever, and that he and Spencer had to get into work. Slightly mournfully, he put his leftovers in the back of the car as Spencer got in on the other side.

“Wait…”

Derek watched as his partner patted himself down earnestly, until he sighed and relaxed into the passenger's seat, looking back towards the restaurant.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“Oh, no.” Derek grinned. “What did you do now?”

Spencer muttered something under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what?” Derek repeated. Toying with Reid was so easy.

“I left my phone in the diner.” Spencer muttered.

Derek smiled, a joke shining behind his eyes.

“Shut up.” 

Derek threw his hands in the air, chuckling. “I didn’t say anything!”

Spencer could feel his face getting warm. “Being forgetful of common, everyday possessions is a trend often found in those who develop introverted tendencies due to predisposition to be susceptible to deeply internal dialogue. Besides this is probably the first time I’ve even left--”

“Okay, okay. I get it, kid. You’re a beautiful genius.” Derek laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “Just go get it, and let’s get back to the police station.”

A gentle smile played across Derek’s as Spencer headed back into the restaurant. He was a genius, alright, but he was young too. Derek knew that Spencer hated that, being seen as the baby. The one everyone had to look out for. But he was, and Derek took it seriously. Especially because he knew Spencer felt the need to overcompensate for how others perceived him, often pushing him to act without thinking. 

Because for all the things his astonishing mind was capable of, there are things only time can teach you, no matter how smart you are.

\---

The restaurant was exactly as they had left it, which wasn’t saying much, seeing as they had just left a few minutes before. A young couple was eating breakfast at the table directly in front of the front window. A couple of men were sharing conversation over coffee at the bar area. Small rays of morning light were seeping through the blinds, creating soft shadows as waiters and waitresses delivered food. The chorus of clanking dishes and quiet conversation served as muzak as Spencer made his way over to their table.

When his phone wasn’t automatically in sight, Spencer internally groaned, knowing it had probably fallen in between the sticky cushions. He leaned forward, mentally preparing himself for what he was sure would be an utterly unpleasant experience.

“Here’s a drink for you, sir.”

“Oh…” Spencer jumped, blinked in surprise as he turned to focus on the beverage. “I didn’t order anything.”

Spencer went back to searching the booth’s worn seat, but the presence behind him didn’t leave. He could feel it still, the hairs on the back of his neck starting to rise. Spencer had never been one for physical contact. Hugs, handshakes, any of it. At first it had been about germs, but then he just grew accustomed to not being touched. In fact, his mother and Derek were probably the only people he let touch him on a frequent basis.

But that meant he had grown acutely aware of when someone was close. Too close.

“You know, my ex girlfriend always ordered clear drinks. Claimed it was easier to tell if they had been messed with.”

That’s when he felt a hand wrap around his upper arm.

Spencer bucked aggressively backwards, trying to shake the man’s hold off of him, but it didn’t work.

“Woah, woah, woah.” the man whispered mockingly, gripping Spencer’s forearm tighter. “Don’t get too excited, now. You’re going to make a scene.”

Spencer jerked again, ripping his arm forward. But it was only pulled back.

“Before you reach for that gun of yours, I think it’s only fair you know the entirety of the situation you’re in.” The man whispered cooly, his hand moving from Spencer’s forearm to the back of his neck firmly. Spencer forced himself to stay still, his entire body screaming for him to get out. Cemented in place as he felt every slight movement the man made against him. The breath in his ear. He hated himself for shaking slightly, knowing that the unsub could feel it too.

“You aren’t the only one packing heat, and if you decide you want to have a shoot-out, you will be successful and you will kill me.” The man leaned in impossibly closer. “But that would be only because, spoiler alert, I have my gun trained on that little girl in Booth 10 over there and I’m afraid she just might be the first to go. She can’t be more than, what, nine?”

“Okay.” Spencer choked, deflated. “What do you want me to do?”

Before the unsub said a word, with burning intentions, his hand lightly crept from Spencer’s neck, down his spine, and rested dangerously on his lower back. Spencer’s breath stopped short, but he stood completely still, bracing himself… knowing he couldn’t fight back. This man was able to do whatever he wanted with him, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do about it.

“I want you to have a drink.” The unsub hissed, gesturing at the glass sitting on the table. “On me.”

The comment from before haunted him.

“What’s… what’s in it?”

“Rohypnol.” The man confessed leisurely. Spencer could feel the smile forming as he did so. 

“I’ll come with you. You don’t need to use this.” Spencer countered hurriedly. “No struggling, no tricks. I swear.”

He could feel the man’s hot breath against the back of his neck as the man wordlessly raised the glass to Spencer, gesturing for him to take it. “This isn’t a negotiation, Dr. Reid.” Then the click of a gun. “Unless you want to talk details after little Suzie over there’s brain matter is covering the wall.”

The man’s touch felt like fire as it slid around Spencer’s waist, wrapping around him possessively. Spencer could feel his heart pounding as he tried to keep his breathing under control, like cornered prey.

Facts had always been a comfort, and they spilled out, his mind rapidly trying to get on top of the situation.

_ Depressant. “Date rape” drug. Slurred speech, loss of coordination. Impaired mental function. Extreme drop in blood pressure, appearing as drowsiness and dizziness. Effects last up to six hours. Anterograde amnesia. Potential for addiction. He had 10 minutes before it sets in. 10 minutes to do something. 15 max, if lucky.  _

Spencer swiped the glass, steeling himself as he forced the clear liquid down his throat, the faint hint of blue a cruel reminder of what he was doing.

_ Derek’s right outside. I just have to get to Derek. _

Trying to remain collected, Spencer slowly set the glass back down on the table. He needed to get out that front door. Derek was right outside.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” the man teased. Spencer shook his head defeatedly, commiting to the roll of giving up. He had to make it look like there was no fight left in him. Spencer slowly looked over to the cheap plastic cushion, eyeing his phone, which was peaking out. If he could get a hold of it… 

_ 9 minutes. _

“Now, you and I both know we don’t have a lot of time before you start feeling a little out of it.” the unsub continued, patting Spencer’s back as if he were an old friend. “So, if we aren’t out of here before that happens… well, I trust you understand the situation you’re in.”

Spencer nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Spencer knew he needed to get them out the front entrance without letting this man know that’s the direction he wanted to go. He couldn’t let him know that Derek would be ready to take him down the moment he realized what was happening. 

Spencer moved to take the first step.

“I don’t think so, Dr. Reid.” The man scolded mockingly, his fingers coiling around Spencer’s arms, making him wince. He began to direct him towards the back entrance of the restaurant. “Why would we go that way with your partner waiting just outside?”

He couldn’t have known that unless he had been watching them for some time.

_ 7 minutes. _

“You see, this is why you couldn’t be trusted.” The unsub sighed, feigning disappointment. The man leaned in impossibly closer. “And according to my clock, we might be feeling a little unwell soon… Better hurry.”

Spencer could feel himself slump in defeat, letting himself be guided away from the door, knowing that his only chance of rescue was slipping away. He could see the black SUV through the window. He could see Derek’s silhouette, looking down at his cell phone. Spencer watched him, pleading, hoping Derek would feel his gaze and look up.

But he didn’t.

_ 5 minutes. _

“Have a good rest of your day!” a waitress called from behind the counter.

“We will! Thank you!” the man answered.

The bell announcing their exit was the last thing Spencer was able to register before his mind started swimming. He fought to stay upright, moving on his own terms to keep what was left of his dignity and free will, but he could feel himself starting to lean heavily on his captor, his feet started to drag. 

_ 4 minutes. _

The unsub essentially had to lift him into his car. Spencer watched helplessly as his hands were bound with zip ties. He leaned forward, weakly trying to jerk his hands out of the unsub’s hold. There was a growl and the world around him was spinning. He barely registered as his head was slammed onto the back head cushion, but he was fairly certain that it would’ve hurt if he had been able to feel it. Spencer tried to raise his head again, but it felt heavy. Impossibly heavy. He strained, trying to get his neck to work, but with each passing second, he felt more and more cemented to the ground.

His mind was ringing as he desperately tried to focus on the car’s identifiable information.  _ Red. Cloth interior. 2015… no… 14? _ Spencer blinked forcefully, trying to shake away the fog that was overtaking his mind.  _ Honda? Honda. No… yes. Wisconsin license plate. 442-GLR. Two times two equals four. Two fours than a two. Golf, Lima, Romeo. Golf, Lima, Romeo... Golf, Rima, Lomeo. Times two… _

_ 1 minute. _

His last cohesive thought landed on Derek. How long until he realized something was wrong? Would he find the glass and realize how important it was?

Would he be able to find him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to holiday stuff, I wasn't able to look this over as closely as I usually do, but I wanted to keep to a schedule!
> 
> Things are taking off from here, folks!


	5. Point 4

The moment Reid disappeared, all of the pieces started to come together. They now had a location, a possible hunting ground, which directed the search. With the diner in mind, Garcia got to work exploring the previous victims’ records. Checking accounts, bank records, surveillance footage. All of their hearts sank when they found the pattern: At least one person from each of the couples had a purchase from the diner within days of their abductions. That meant the unsub had to either work at the location, or was a frequent customer.

The abduction of another person had been the key to solving a critical piece of the case. It just killed the team that it had to be at the expense of one of their own.

Morgan couldn’t keep still. His nervous energy came out as pacing, and pacing restlessly. The only moments he held still were when he was listening to the staff recall the last few hours, and even then his leg would twitch, or he had to fiddle with his hands. He held to Reid’s phone like a lifeline. It had been at their booth, right where he had left it. Out back, behind the restaurant, Morgan had searched with vigor. Tire marks, footprints, anything that could give them a hint, but it was like his partner had disappeared. The phone had already been checked for fingerprints, or clues of any kind, but the only thing that came from that search were Spencer’s. And although Morgan knew it was ridiculous, he couldn’t help by cling to it, as if keeping it close could keep Reid close.

“All of my staff is accounted for.” the manager confirmed, pulling Morgan from his ruminations. “If it’s a man you’re looking for, the only man we had working tonight was our cook, and he is still here.”

Hotch watched closely at the moment of the staff, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. But so far, nothing stood out. Nervous whisperings, shocked looks, people avoiding direct eye contact. All typical behaviors. His gaze fell on a waitress, anxiously cleaning tables and gathering silverware. She was clearly boiling over with nervous energy, unsure of what to do with it. That’s when he noticed a glass, the contents colored slightly different than the rest.

“Wait!” Hotch ordered, stopping a waitress in her tracks. Swiping the glass from her, he examined it closely. “Which booth was that at?”

The waitress looked shocked. “Um… that one, sir.”

The two agents followed to where she pointed and Hotch could feel Morgan stiffen beside him. “Hotch, that’s the booth Reid and I sat at.” 

For all the years Derek had worked in the BAU, he had never learned to hide his emotions. Hotch could read Derek’s face. He saw the outburst before it happened. 

“How the hell do you completely miss an abduction in progress?” Derek shouted, his fist making contact with the closest booth. The waitress flinched. Hotch gave him a moment. It was misguided anger. He knew Derek wasn’t mad at the staff, or even the waitress. He was mad at himself. He was right outside and he had missed it. Reid had been taken right out from under his watch.

“Morgan.” Hotch cautioned. He waited until Derek was listening, until Derek’s eyes begrudgingly met his.

“You need to keep your head. You are useless to Reid if you are out of control.” He knew it was harsh, especially because he was acutely aware of the true nature of Derek and Spencer’s relationship, but he knew it was what his friend needed to hear.

Morgan looked away, but Hotch could read the embarrassment behind his eyes. Morgan’s gaze shifted around the diner, until it focused on the back corner, and the embarrassment shifted to determination.

“Is that a camera?” Morgan asked.

Hotch followed his friend’s gaze to land on an outdated, but very much visible, camera above the cashier’s register. From its position, it would clearly have a view of the entire area, including Morgan and Reid’s booth.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Hotch asked. “We need to see the footage from that camera.”

The waitress shifted nervously, her gaze shifting anxiously to her boss.

“It… doesn’t actually work.” the manager admitted, apology lacing her words. “We only have it there to keep people from doing anything stupid.”

Hotch could feel Morgan stiffen next to him, his breathing becoming deep as he tried to remain calm and professional.

“Oh my god!” the waitress gasped, drawing all of their attention.

“What is it?” Hotch probbed, trying to keep his voice clinical. However, despite himself, the outburst had lit a spark of hope through him.

“I totally forgot because I was thinking about who was working tonight.” she continued, bringing her hand to her mouth. “But Mason came in to check his schedule.” Her voice cracked as she continued, “I said goodbye to him when he walked out. I didn’t even realize…”

“The name.” Morgan interrupted. Hotch didn’t dare redirect him this time. He could feel the tension growing to a boiling point.

“Mason Williams. He’s one of our servers.” the manager bristled slightly. “But that doesn’t automatically mean he is responsible, right?” 

Rather than answering her question, Morgan whipped open his phone, connecting with Garcia in seconds.

Hotch took on damage control. He redirected the manager and the waitress’ attention back towards him, gathering additional information about Mason Williams. The waitress looked beside herself with guilt.

“I’m so sorry.” she whispered.

“It’s okay.” Hotch assured. “You couldn’t have known. And you’ve helped us more than you know.”

_ One ring. _

“Did you find anything?” Garcia asked, void of all joking and flirting. Not when there was this much at stake.

“I got a name.” Morgan started, “Mason Williams. He came in even though he wasn’t working. Apparently he was only here for a few seconds.”

“I’m searching at the speed of light.” Morgan could hear the typing to prove it. 

There was a brief pause, neither of them quite ready to hang up. 

“How are you holding up?” 

The sincerity in her voice killed him.

Morgan cursed himself for the tears that began to well up. Garcia was one of the few people in this world who he allowed himself to be vulnerable around, which meant that she knew how to worm her way around his walls. Morgan tried to shake it off and compose himself before answering. This wasn’t the time or place to break down. Not when Reid needed him.

“Not good, baby girl.” Morgan whispered.

_Another pause._

“I am going to find him, and when I get my cyber-hands around his throat, he’s going to wish he had never messed with us, Derek. I promise you that.” Garcia swore, and Morgan believed it.


	6. Connection

The first thing that registered to him was the banging. Spencer squeezed his eyes closed, trying to block out the pain, but the throbbing just intensified as he tried to get his mind to work again. He knew that he was cold, and that his body was sore. 

Cautiously, he tried to open his eyes, which was a mistake. Even the tiny sliver of light made his mind start to swim and he let out an involuntary groan. Spencer forced himself to take deep breaths, trying to keep the light-headedness at bay. He let his head fall backwards, letting his body recuperate for a few moments. Once Spencer felt ready, he held his breath and tried to lift his head again, which felt unbelievably heavy. Then the ringing began, and he got lost in the lights swimming behind his eyes as he head fell forward.

Slowly… slowly he tried to open his eyes again.

That’s when he realized his was in a chair. And he was tied to it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer could see the unsub.

The man watched him with interest, his keen eyes cataloging Spencer as he tested the restraints, seemingly relishing in it. And although he could feel his panic starting to rise, Spencer refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, he steeled his gaze and forced himself to stop pulling.

“You made a mistake.” Spencer started, trying to sound as objective as possible, but his tongue felt heavy, making his sentence slurred. 

The man looked at him condescendingly. “Have I?” 

Spencer spoke again, this time more intentionally. “You’ve only taken people in relationships up to this point. How are you supposed to get what you’re looking for by breaking pattern?”

The man laughed. Just laughed. And that scared him.

“Dr. Reid, please.” he huffed. “I despise liars. And more than that, I despise people who think they’re smarter than me.”

Before Spencer could react, the man’s grip burrowed into his hair and ripped his head backwards. His breath cut off, his hands instinctively tried to fight him off, Spencer could feel the shock taking over his mind. He flinched, jerking as far away from the man’s hot breath as he hissed. 

“You don’t have to be a behavioral expert to read the chemistry between yourself and that partner of yours. Derek Morgan, isn’t it?”

A small sob escaped Spencer’s lips.

“And you’re going to bring him here.”

Helplessly, Spencer shook his head, his mind still feeling delayed from the drugs. No, he was not.

Reid braced himself for the pain he was sure was coming, but it never happened. Instead, he heard a creak and slowly opened his eyes. He watched closely, taking in every slight movement the man made, trying not shrink away as the man leaned down next to him.

“Do you play an instrument, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer blinked. The question confused him, but he didn’t answer.

“Paint or draw, perhaps?”

He hardened his gaze and tried to appear as unfazed as possible, trying to think past the growing pulsing in his head.

The man continued, completely unbothered. “I only ask because I want to know how much this will hurt.” And he dove for Reid’s hand.

Reid tried to jerk away, but the zip ties that bound his hands to the chair held true, biting the soft skin around his wrist as he fought against them. He could feel the man worming his way into his clenched fist, prying a finger away. And then blind pain, the blunt end of a hammer coming down.

His mind didn’t have any trouble comprehending that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a bit since I've updated! Know that I haven't forgotten about this fic, life is just getting a wee bit busy! Hope you all enjoy.


	7. Intersection 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this chapter is a bit hard to follow. I really struggled with how to integrate various POVs in the same chapter, and how they jumped around. But I tried my best! Maybe it fits the chaos of the moment.
> 
> If you're interested, I do have an Instagram account, noirwandererr.

Morgan had circled the block at least forty times by now. He knew he and the team had searched every inch of the area, and that it was of little to no use to remain there, but to leave felt like a betrayal. This is where Reid had last been, so for some illogical reason, it felt like where he could be closest to him. As if latching onto the memory of Reid walking through those diner doors would manifest a closeness. A connection fabricated in the mind, but persuasive nonetheless.

Morgan jumped, being pulled out of his ruminations by a buzzing. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. The caller ID read “Unknown,” and his chest became tight, from both hope and fear. Call it intuition, call it wishful thinking, but something deep within him knew who it was.

_ Reid. _

“Reid?! Reid where are you?”

Spencer’s heart crawled into his throat, keeping words from coming out.

He could feel the pulsing of his swollen fingers, but they had nothing on the pain of hearing Derek’s panic, and knowing that he was to blame.

“Spencer, you gotta talk to me. What’s going on? Where are you?”

Derek’s voice turned cold.

“Who is this?”

“Say hello.” The man taunted, hissing into Spencer’s ear. 

Spencer shook his head vehemently, choking back a sob. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. Hearing Derek’s voice ripped down the already-fragile walls he had been trying to build around himself. But just as Derek was his weakness, Spencer was his. That would only play into the game. It would only make Derek more angry. More reckless.

Wordlessly, the man jabbed the cattle prod into Spencer’s side. 

Spencer’s scream ripped through the phone.

_ REID. _

Morgan slammed the steering wheel of his car, his heart crying out. 

“Okay! Okay! Stop! I’m listening. Stop!”

Reid could hear Morgan’s voice, but he couldn’t make out the words, his body focusing on trying to recover. The effects seemed amplified, the haze palpable, with his body still recovering from the drugs.

Morgan got out of his car. He didn’t know where he was going, but he wasn’t going to stay put. 

“Listen, Mason.”

“Oh! You know my name. Not that that’s going to help you, but that makes this a lot more fun.” 

_ Derek knows his name. That means their team knows his name. That means they could be close. _

Morgan started again, slower, deliberately. “Listen, Mason, You’re a smart guy. You wouldn’t have gotten away with this for so long if you weren’t, but you’ve made a mistake.”

Morgan steeled himself, the way he always did when he needed to lie.

“You have taken a federal agent. And on top of that, you have taken a federal agent who is not in a relationship--”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Agent Morgan.” The man smirked and laid a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Your partner, in all meanings of the term, has already tried to convince me of that, but there is a reason we are calling you, and it’s not because we randomly pulled your name out of the hat.”

Morgan sighed defeatedly. He knew there was no point in continuing to try. He could feel the certainty. He took a deep breath. He had seen the crime scenes. He knew what was going to happen next, but he and Reid had something the previous victims did not: expertise in criminal behavior and insight on Mason’s previous crimes. Morgan swore to himself that they would not meet the same fate.

“Okay.”

“That’s better.”

“No! No Derek, don’t--”

A fresh wave of electricity cut him short. Spencer threw his head back, gripping the arms of the chair and trying to keep breathing.

“Shut up!” the man shouted, raising a clenched fist. Reid barely had time to brace himself before pain lit up the left side of his face.

_ Fist hitting flesh. _

“Damn it, Mason!” Derek yelled. “You’ve got me right where you want me! You don’t have to do anything else to him!”

“That is true, but a little incentive never hurt.” Mason asserted. “Maybe when you get here, you can take some of my attention away from Dr. Reid here.”

Crime scene photos flashed through Morgan’s mind. He knew what that would mean.

“And I know it goes without saying, but just you, don’t contact your team, no coming in hot, etcetera, etcetera… You know the drill, right? I don’t need to keep going?”

Morgan gritted his teeth. “No.”

“Wonderful.”

Spencer held back tears as he listened to the man give a location for Derek to meet him at. Clearly, this wasn’t where they were at currently. He was too smart for that. They had to be at the secondary location. Spencer started pulling up his mental maps of the area he had memorized, trying to gauge where he might be. A place far enough away from here that he felt safe giving to Derek...

“I think that phone call went well.” the man mused, mulling over his satisfaction.

“He’s not going to let you get away with this.” Spencer spat. He knew it was cliche and ordinary, but he now understood why people said it. Because he believed it. He had to believe it. “Morgan is not going to let you play with him without a fight.”

“But I have you, Dr. Reid, and he will cooperate.” the man grinned. “And there is nothing like a powerful man bending to your will. But we’ll have to see how long that lasts, and if he loves you more than his pride.”


	8. Collision 1

Morgan eased out of his car, checking his holster for the hundredth time to make sure that it was ready if he needed it. He knew what he was walking into. He was walking into a meticulously calculated trap. Mason has set a series of events into play at a time of his choosing, a domino effect he began, making all of them pawns from the start. Morgan knew that all he needed to do was get ahead of it. 

His first step had been to not tell the team. He had wanted to, and it was the objective thing to do. Together, they had taken down criminal after criminal, a person like Mason shouldn’t be an exception. However, that would be the rational thing to do, which would be what Mason would predict, which meant it wasn’t an option. Morgan liked to think that he would tell them if it were the smart choice, but he knew himself too well. Despite all his strengths, his passion repeatedly became his downfall. He had a pattern of thinking with his heart before his mind, and Spencer was directly in that blind spot. If he dared to be honest with himself, perhaps a part of him found relief that he was going alone.

Morgan had been sure to hide the car a few blocks away. He knew that if he were gone too long, its location would give Garcia enough of a lead to figure it out, and he trusted her to find him. 

Where Mason had directed him to go was surprisingly public. An enormous abandoned building near the downtown area. Simply from its facade, Morgan knew the place had been let go a long time ago. It had clearly been some kind of business center or office building in its prime, housing floors of office workers. However, as the city grew, it had lost its centrality, making the company it housed move, leaving it neglected and susceptible to the care of nature. Morgan examined the broken windows and greenery thriving between cracks in the old parking lot. It screamed suspicious. 

Yeah. Garcia would find them.

The next choice Morgan had to make was which entrance he would use. Fortunately, there were a lot of options, making it much harder for Mason to be able to predict, and cover, the various points of entry. After a few moments of mental gymnastics, Morgan chose the back way, thinking that it was the most instinctual option, so Mason probably assumed he would pick another one, making it the best choice. The building looked like it would fall apart if the wind blew too hard, so Morgan didn’t want to risk moving anything more than he needed to, and the back entrance also had a broken door, making it easy to slip in without making a noise.

Raising his gun, Morgan crept down the littered hallway, moving gracefully, conducting a dance he had been doing for years. Stepping over fallen pieces of ceiling tile and running alongside the wall, Morgan’s movements felt automatic, happening without thought due to practice. Muscle memory. The only difference was that he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Usually it stayed in his chest, but he could feel the drumming throughout his body this time. Because this time was different.

Now to find Reid.

Systematically, Morgan began looking into each room, his adrenaline spiking easy time he whipped into a new one, both because he hoped to see Reid, find him and let him know he wasn’t alone anymore, and because he feared what would happen when he did. Spencer’s scream echoed in his mind, and Morgan couldn’t shake it. The kid was smart, but the longer he was with Mason, the more chances there were for him to be hurt further. And Morgan thought about Tobias Hankle. To be in this situation again, after Morgan had sworn Reid would never be unprotected again… but Morgan had become comfortable. Time had made him relax. The more distance that inserted itself between then and now had made Morgan ease his watch over his partner, and it came back with a vengeance. 

Everyone on the team had their own experiences, their own close calls with unsubs, so they all knew the unique terror of knowing everything about the deepest, darkest recesses of the human psyche, and being left at the mercy of them.

Three floors in, left with the spinning ruminations trapped in his mind, Morgan could feel his patience slowly beginning to chip away. There were at least four more to check, and he could feel each nerve within him lighting up, agitation mixing with fear to create an unbearable concoction that made his skin crawl. 

A buzzing from his pocket sent a jolt through him, the tension making him jumpier than usual. His phone. It didn’t have a chance to buzz again before Morgan whipped it out and answered. The same number as before.

“Where is he?” Morgan demanded before Mason got the chance to speak.

“I’ve been enjoying watching you, but I’m getting bored now.” Mason answered nonchalantly. “You’re taking too long, so I thought we could move this along.”

Morgan picked up his search with vigor, spinning into the next room. Empty again. Morgan slipped into the stairwell, beginning his assent to the next level. “You didn’t answer my question, Mason. Where is--”

“Colder.”

Morgan froze. Resentfully, he back around, hating how easily Mason was able to toy with him. Biting his tongue, he tentatively began walking down the other direction, turning towards the lower floor.

“Warmer.”

Morgan looked around carefully, searching for cameras. Clearly Mason was able to see him, but he couldn’t find anything. Once he got to the second floor, he made for the door.

“Colder.”

Morgan stopped short, turning to continue down the stairwell.

“Warmer.”

“There’s a basement.” Morgan stated. It wasn’t a question.

There was a silence on the other end.

“We’ll see you soon.” Mason responded, sounding extremely happy with himself, and Morgan hated it. “I know Spencer is looking forward to it.”

The line went dead, and Morgan ran.

\------

Once he reached the lowest level, Morgan almost laughed. Of course this is where an unsub would be. The atmosphere looked like it walked right out of a slasher film. Dark, damp, predictable, but still dangerous.

And Mason knew he was coming.

Morgan didn’t have any grounds to stand on.

The basement had way fewer rooms, making Morgan’s search much quicker, but as each room was checked, he knew he was getting closer, and he knew there was only one chance at this.

Looking down the hall, Morgan’s eyes landed on a closed door and a cold wave made his skin prickle. Something primal within him sturred, and he knew.

He felt the gun in his grip, adjusting it slightly before taking a deep breath. Pressed low against the wall, Morgan slowly turned the knob.

All of his logic, all of his training, all of it flew from his mind the moment his sights landed on Reid. All his mind would do was process at lightning speed, turning his mind to a static fuzz. First was his partner’s hand, swollen and bruised. His head hung lifelessly to the side and Spencer’s hair clung to his forehead, the sweat making it damp. His body was fighting the shock of the break. Morgan could see the glaze over his eyes, his mind clouded by the pain. Morgan knew the look, it was the same one he got when he retreated to the recesses of his mind; disassociating.

Morgan tried to focus. Mason was still running wild, but he couldn’t look away from his partner.

“Reid!” Morgan called out. He looked around quickly, scanning their surroundings before proceeding forward, his gun following. “Spencer!”

He couldn’t see Mason anywhere, and Morgan needed to get to him. Carefully, Morgan dashed across the room to his partner. Dropping to his knees, Morgan gingerly took Spencer’s face into his hands, gently stroking his cheek. That’s when he noticed Reid’s gun wasn’t in its holster.

“Come on, kid.” Morgan whispered. “Come on.”

Despite the pain it brought him, Morgan forced himself to break eye contact and began examining the binds. Zip ties, deceptively simple, Morgan patted himself down, hoping to find something he could use, but of course he didn’t. Desperately, Morgan tugged on the zip tie holding Spencer’s uninjured hand, knowing it was pointless. Then his eyes landed on a knife on an adjacent table.

A weak voice pierced through his thoughts. 

“Morgan?” 

Morgan’s breath caught in his throat as he turned to see Spencer looking at him, his eyes still unfocused, but they were lucid. Spencer’s voice hitched as his eyes squeezed shut. “It really h-hurts…” he said through clenched teeth.

“Hey, kid! Hey, stay with me.” Morgan panicked, bending down to catch Reid’s eyes again. “Look at me. I know it’s bad, but you need to stay with me.”

Morgan could see Spencer fighting to open his eyes again, the full brunt of the break starting to register and take effect.

“Where is he?” Spencer asked, fear lacing the question. “Did you get him?”

Morgan’s blood ran cold. He was about to ask him the same question, which meant neither of them had any idea.

“Not yet.” Morgan answered clinically, trying to mask his growing panic. He forced himself to smile, to hide his fear. “I’m getting you out of this chair first, and then I’m going to find him and kick his ass.”

Placing a hand on Spencer’s knee, Morgan waited until Spencer gave a small smile back and he watched him take a deep breath, centering himself. Morgan slowly got up, the knife in his sights. 

The second he did, Spencer went tense, his breathing starting to come out violently.

“Wait, wait! Where are you going?” he gasped.

Morgan darted back. “There’s a knife over there. I’m just getting it. I’m not leaving you, I promise.”

After a few moments, Reid nodded slowly, his breathing returning to normal. He looked up at Morgan and nodded again, confirming he was okay and that he understood.

Morgan darted quickly for the table, wanting to get back to Spencer as quickly as possible. Each millisecond they were apart, each millimeter of distance between them felt like a vulnerability. Once he was within range, he dove for the knife.

The blow from behind caught him by surprise, making the knife drop from his grip. His ears began to ring, but he could still think, and he knew what had happened. Instinctively, Morgan reached behind him, catching the arm before it could retreat for another attack. He swiveled around, bringing his own fist back and landing a punch. Mason fell to the ground and Morgan earnestly searched for the knife before remembering his own weapon. He fought against the throbbing of his head as he reached for his gun.

But he didn’t get to it. Before he had a chance, electricity coursed through him, his body turning stiff and leaving spasms in its wake. He tried to recover, getting the gun into his hand, but another assault came, a fresh wave of agony burning.

The last thing that registered before his unconsciousness overtook him was Spencer’s face, riddled with terror. Then there was total darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, folks! Now we're going to be getting into the good stuff. I always spend much more time on exposition than I originally plan... but it's important, right??


End file.
